【有声英语文学名著】英国病人 96
时间：2017-04-18 07:52:55
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（单词翻译）
She’d come to love its sternness because of him, wanting to understand his comfort in its solitude1.( She was always happier in rain, in bathrooms steaming with liquid air, in sleepy wetness, climbing back in from his window that rainy night in Cairo and putting on her clothes while still wet, in order to hold it all. Just as she loved family traditions and courteous2 ceremony and old memorized poems. She would have hated to die
without a name. For her there was a line back to her ancestors that was
tactile3, whereas he had
erased4 the path he had emerged from. He was amazed she had loved him in spite of such qualities of
anonymity5 in himself.)
She was on her back, positioned the way the mediaeval dead lie. I approached her naked as I would have done in our South Cairo room, wanting to undress her, still wanting to love her. What is terrible in what I did? Don’t we forgive everything of a lover? We forgive selfishness, desire,
guile6. As long as we are the
motive7 for it. You can make love to a woman with a broken arm, or a woman with fever. She once sucked blood from a cut on my hand as I had tasted and swallowed her menstrual blood.()
There are some European words you can never translate properly into another language. Felhomaly. The dusk of graves. With the connotation of
intimacy8 there between the dead and the living. I lifted her into my arms from the shelf of sleep. Clothing like cobweb. I disturbed all that. I carried her out into the sun.
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